


Letting Go

by Lucefray27



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Banter, Dirty Talk, F/M, Mystery, One Night Stands, Oral Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 09:58:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9435008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucefray27/pseuds/Lucefray27
Summary: It's ok to let go sometimes. We all need to drown our demons somehow - Hermione chooses to do that with Blaise. Quills & Parchment Lemonade Smut Fest One Shot Comp.Best One Night StandRunner Up: Best Angst, Best Banter, Best Dirty Talk.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Lemonade](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Lemonade) collection. 



> **Prompt:**  
>  **Disclaimer:** All canon character, plots, and situations from the Harry Potter series belong to JK Rowling. I am not profiting from this work.
> 
> Thank you to my beta for their time and work on this story.

She sat at the bar, alone, for the fourth night this week. It was quickly becoming a habit, and if she weren’t knee deep in disgust with herself, Hermione might have thought this habit was becoming a problem. 

As it was, though, she was one drink closer to pissed, and one drink further from caring.    
  


Pushing her now empty glass forward, Hermione raised one hand, signaling her need— want, her want for another drink. If she started talking about  _ needing _ alcohol, then she would have to quit, and she wasn’t ready to give up this crutch yet.    
  
Hannah Abbot made her way to the far end of the bar where Hermione sat. She reached for the empty glass, and smiled at Hermione.    
  
“Another, Hannah. Please.” Hermione requested on the tail end of a sigh.    
  
Hannah turned away without saying anything and began fixing the drink. After she returned with a full glass and slid it in front of Hermione, she leaned forward, propping her head in her hands, elbows resting on the bartop.   
  
“What’s eating you Hermione?” she asked pointedly. No beating around the bush for this Hufflepuff, apparently.    
  
“Don’t worry about it, Hannah.” The woman was sweet as sugar, and Hermione didn’t feel like tainting that.    
  
“You’ve been in here four days in a row now, Hermione. Until last call. I’ve been a barmaid long enough to know when someone is trying to hide from a problem.”    
  
“Can you tell Tom that I personally request he hire less observant and nosey personnel?” Hermione laughed humorlessly. Truth was, Hannah was spot on.    
  
“I’ll tell him, love. Now you tell me,” she replied, directing the conversation right back onto her personal track.    
  
Hermione took a long sip from her drink, feeling the alcohol wash over her. She was already quite buzzed, and one or two drinks more would have her unquestionably drunk.    
  
“As you have already pointed out Hannah, I am here to forget, and drown my sorrows. So if you don’t mind, I’d love to skip this conversation entirely.” she stated firmly.“Unless you can point me in the direction of a tall, dark, and handsome drink of water, then this glass is going to have to do,” she joked, taking another sip.    
  
“Speak of the devil,” Hannah chuckled under her breath. “What can I get for you?” she asked to someone over Hermione’s shoulder.    
  
“Well I heard a lovely lady over here asking for a tall, dark, and handsome ‘drink of water’, and here I am,” the smooth voice said, just as Hermione heard the stool next to her scrape across the floor.    
  
“Eavesdropping is not the way to a lady’s heart,” Hermione groaned, rolling her eyes.    
  
“Ah, that may be, but it sure does help when you’re trying to get into her knickers,” he replied.    
  
Amused, Hermione turned to look at the man for the first time, and was actually pleased with who she saw.    
  
“Blaise Zabini, Hogwarts’ whore. I see you haven’t changed much in six years.”    
  
“At your service.” he winked, “Hermione Granger.” The way he said her name, and the accompanying perusal of her body, left no doubt to the fact that he was also pleased with what he saw. “You, on the other hand, have changed considerably.”    
  
She scoffed, picking up her drink. “You didn’t know me in school Zabini, and you definitely don’t know me now.”  Raising her glass to her lips, Hermione took a sip, watching the man sit down next to her as he ordered a drink. Blaise Zabini was indeed tall, dark, and handsome. He always had been, but apparently the six years since they had graduated, and last seen each other, had been exceptionally kind to him. He wore black trousers and a grey button up with the top two buttons deliciously undone. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, and Hermione could see the strong, lean muscles of his forearm. She took another drink from her glass, not bothering to hide her appreciation of his appearance.    
  
“You’re drooling, Granger.” smirking he took his drink from Hannah.    
  
“You wish,” she purred.    
  


He shrugged. “Maybe I do.”   
  
“Hmmm...” Hermione bit her lip, dragging it between her teeth, before swiveling her on stool. Her knees brushed along his thigh, and she left them there as she looked at him.    
  
“Face it, Granger,” he wasn’t looking at her as he spoke, “a lady doesn’t come to a bar, dressed to kill, for no reason.” Taking a deliberately slow, sensual drink from his tumbler, he licked his lips before turning to face her, settling one knee on either side of her own. “I was here last night, and I saw you. Dressed up sexy as hell, but sitting here all alone. You’re not waiting for someone, because you never check the door. Which means you're pining.”

Hermione only raised her eyebrows in response, pursing her lips slightly.

“That’s my bet, Granger. I’ll just assume it was the weasel, because who else would be dumb enough to let you go? Let's face it doll, you were always out of his league.” Blaise apparently had no qualms about openly appreciating her body, which was an utter turn on, as his eyes raked up and down her form. 

“Now who’s drooling, Zabini,” She winked, watching a wicked smile cross his face. 

“You’ve got so much to drool over doll, and I never give up the opportunity to stare at a nice rack.” He winked at her before taking another sip of his drink. “In fact, why not just follow me upstairs so I can see the rest?” he suggested, gesturing the hand that held his drink toward the stairs leading to the upper rooms of the Leaky. 

“You’re quite blunt, Zabini.” 

“Come upstairs with me,” he murmured seductively as he leaned in toward her. He paused, running his nose along the sensitive skin behind her ear, making Hermione shudder. “I've already got a room. You can forget all about the weasel, and we can both have a good time tonight.” His breath was hot, and his suggestion tempting. Had Hermione been one more drink in, she probably would have accepted his invitation. 

Instead, she leaned back, gulping the rest of her drink in one go, and placed it back on the bar. She stood, deliberately brushing her knees lightly against his crotch as did so. Now standing between the man’s legs, Hermione reached into her bag, leaving some coins on the counter before turning, ready to walk away. 

She was only mildly surprised when she felt a strong hand grasp her arm. She looked up to see Blaise watching her, his face only inches from her own. “Five, doll.” His voice was silky and seductive, leaving a warm sensation in her belly. She raised her eyebrows questioningly. 

“My room number, for when you change your mind.” A sinfully dangerous glint crossed his features, as he reached a hand just under her short dress, lightly trailing his fingers up her thigh. Hermione felt her skin prickle as she bit back a moan.     
  
“Close, Zabini. Though your powers of persuasion could use some fine tuning.” She smirked, wiggling from his grasp and sauntering to the door; she could feel his hungry eyes on her the whole way.

Once outside, Hermione let out a loud sigh— a mixture of relief and frustration. He was bloody sexy, and a bigger part of her than she was willing to admit wanted to take him up on his offer. Work had brought her back home early when their mission went south, and Ron had made it abundantly clear that he no longer wished to continue their relationship; if not by the yelling match they had four nights ago, then by letting Hermione walk in on him fucking another witch. Anger bubbled up inside her, and she clenched her fists at her sides.

“You okay there, doll?” Blaise’s voice made her jump, and stumble slightly, only to be caught by his firm grip on her arm. Before she could protest, he was turning her to face him and letting go. “I was serious in there, you know,” he said taking a step toward her. She matched his advance with a step backwards. 

Her breath hitched at his proximity, and Hermione tried to school her expression when she spoke. “Serious?” She narrowed her eyes, unsure what part exactly that he had been serious about. 

“Yes, serious. You know, telling the truth. Genuine. Sincere.” His voice was like warm honey; Hermione had to stop herself from leaning into him.

  
“I know what serious means,” she rolled her eyes. “I just wasn’t sure  _ which part _ you were serious about.” 

He took another step toward her, and when she took a step back, Hermione found herself backed up against the wall. Blaise took one more step, placing a hand on the wall next to her head. “Serious when I said you were dressed to kill,” he murmured, drawing his other hand to her face, caressing her cheek.   
  
She stared straight into his smouldering eyes, hoping her features weren’t betraying how much she actually wanted him.   
  
“Serious when I said you have quite the lovely rack—  here,” he traced his hand down the line of her neck, and followed the V-cut of her dress, lingering along the tops of her breasts and making her shudder. He trailed it back up to rest on the other side of her head, effectively pinning her to the wall. He leaned forward slightly, so that she could feel his breath on her neck. A chill ran across her skin as he paused taking a deep breath in before continuing.   
  
“Serious when I said I wanted you to come upstairs with me,” he whispered huskily before leaning forward and capturing her lips with his. The kiss was searing, making her groan as his tongue ran along her bottom lip, seeking entrance. She responded physically without thinking, opening to him; as soon as she did, he swept teasingly into her mouth once, before pulling away.   
  
“I want to fuck you, witch,” he whispered, moving to drag his nose along her neck, trailing soft kisses along the sensitive skin to her collarbone. He leaned forward, pressing into her, and Hermione could feel his already hard length through his trousers.   
  
“Now _that’s_ more convincing,” she rasped. Her voice sounded breathless and heady and it annoyed her how much it revealed. She wanted him, and if he hadn’t known it before, he did now.   
  
She looked at him through hooded lids, and saw he was smirking wickedly at her— obviously pleased. He winked, before pushing himself into her further, capturing her lips once again. His hand gripped her thigh, and he continued to trace the seam of her lips with his tongue. She involuntarily let out a breathless moan, opening for him again as his tongue began gliding hotly over her own. She felt her last morsels of self control leave her and she began enthusiastically kissing him back. He slid his hand up, stopping only when he reached the apex of her thighs. Setting it over her knickers he pulled another moan from her as he started to expertly rub circles in a way that gave no question to his abilities.

Swallowing the moan she let out, Blaise chuckled darkly and pulled away slightly to rest his forehead on hers as he looked at her. “My room?” He asked with raised eyebrows.    
  
“Mmmhmm,” was all she could manage, as he was still focusing his attentions on her clit.    
“Good idea.” He winked, pulling his hand from under her dress and wrapping it around her waist. He leaned in, taking her lips in a bruising kiss, just as Hermione felt the squeezing pull of Apparation.    
  
When she opened her eyes they were in one of the upstairs rooms of the Leaky Cauldron, and Blaise was still kissing her. Before she could even consider how incredibly strange it was to apparate while kissing, he snaked his hand back under her dress, and Hermione knew he could feel the wetness of her knickers under his motions.    
  
Breaking away from the kiss, she breathlessly questioned him. “Why are you doing this? You never even liked me.”    
  
Blaise leaned forward, capturing her bottom lip between his teeth and pulling slightly, letting it slide through his bite. “Because you’re a hot lonely witch, and I’m a hot lonely wizard.” he winked. “And contrary to that statement, I have always had a bit of a thing for you,” he whispered, never ceasing the circles he was rubbing. Hermione shuddered before clutching his shirt and giving up questioning the situation. She threw herself into the kiss, sweeping her tongue hungrily through his mouth.    
  
Noticing her sudden change of pace, Blaise reached his arm down to grasp her thigh, and pulled it up to his waist. Deepening the kiss, he grabbed the other as well and took several steps before pinning her against the wall. She moaned, throwing her head back; her whole body felt like it was on fire— nerve endings hot with sensation as she moved her arms to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer. 

She brought her head down, pausing to make eye contact before nipping and sucking lightly on the sensitive skin just below his ear, earning a throaty groan from the man.

“Fuck, witch—” he exhaled as he grabbed her arms from around his neck, bringing them above her head and holding them tightly there. He left one hand holding hers up as the other trailed down her body, greedily palming her breasts. His touch felt like icy flames licking her skin, leaving a trail of tingling sensation in their wake. 

Blaise thrust his hips against her, pressing her harder into the wall, and eliciting a hungry moan from her lips. He chuckled darkly, “Like it a little rough?”

“Mmm...” Her legs lost their grip on his middle and slid down his body. He released her arms and she was able to balance herself, though she was sure her knees would have given out had he not still had his body pressed against hers.    
  
Hermione tilted her face up, grazing her teeth along at his jaw and drawing his attention. He hungrily claimed her mouth again, swiping his tongue across hers greedily. She whimpered, clutching his shirt and pulling him closer to her, as his hand slid up her dress, palming her center. He began his ministrations and it was all Hermione could do not to melt into a puddle right there on the floor. She felt her knees buckle as he rubbed circles around her clit. This raw passion was something she hadn’t experienced before, and she knew she’d been missing out.   
  
They were both breathing heavily, foreheads touching. Letting go of her hold on his shirt, Hermione moved her hands to undo his buttons, slipping one after another out of their holes until his chest was bare. She immediately ran her hands down his toned abs; he felt divine— hard, chiseled, and perfect. Trailing her fingers down to his trousers, she ran one across the skin there, feeling the soft prickle of the patch of hair leading below his belt. 

“Turn around,” Blaise commanded huskily. She did as he asked, and felt his hands run up her sides. He unzipped her dress, and pushed the fabric from her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Knowing her lacy knickers gave him a full display of her arse, Hermione looked over her shoulder at him, smirking.    
  
“Like what you see?” She purred as Blaise ran a hand appreciatively over her curves, letting out a low whistle.    
  


“Damn Granger. If I knew you’d been hiding all this, I would have attempted our little rendezvous long ago.” He traced a hand over the curve of her arse, and around to the front, stopping when he reached her center. His fingers trailed along the lines of her knickers, teasingly. Hermione moaned, pressing her palms into the wall in front of her.    
  


“Merlin, Zabini. If you’re going to tease me all night long, I might as well leave now,” she said as she arched her back, pushing her arse out to make contact with his hardened cock, and grinding into his erection.    
  


“Suit yourself, witch,” he whispered, as he pushed aside the fabric covering her. He rubbed circles around her clit again, and it was all Hermione could do not to turn around and demand he fuck her there on the wall. He slid his hand slightly lower, and let his fingers run along her slit, back and forth, without pressing further. She could feel her body react to him; her arse coming forward, as she tried to get the friction she desired. He teased a moment longer, before slipping two fingers inside her wet heat. 

A low moan escaped her throat as she pressed back into his movements. His fingers expertly sliding in and out, creating a rhythm. Reaching her arm between their bodies, Hermione felt for his cock, and began rubbing it through the fabric of his trousers. The groan he let out at that simple touch made her feel powerful and sexy as hell. 

She let out a startled gasp when he abruptly withdrew his fingers and spun her around to face him. Hermione watched, jaw dropped as he slowly sucked his fingers into his mouth, licking the digits clean of her arousal. The moan that escaped her lips caused him to smirk at her as he pulled his finger out with a pop.    
  
“You taste like honey.” His voice was barely more than a whisper, dark and seductive. When he leaned in, crushing his lips to hers, Hermione savored the kiss, opening to him and massaging her tongue against his. She could hear the impatient growl that tore from his throat, as he hoisted her up and carried her toward the bed across the room. 

Throwing her down, Blaise’s eyes hungrily raked over her as she looked up at him. She could feel her desire clearly etched on her face as she watched him take several deliberately slow breaths, steadying himself. After only a moment’s debate, Blaise knelt down at the end of the bed, reaching up to put a finger through the elastic of her lace knickers. He pulled them down her body, throwing them somewhere across the room.  She gasped as he put a hand on each of her ankles and gently spread her legs wide, putting everything on display for his hungry eyes. 

  
She brought her hands up, covering herself as he watched her whole body flush. Hermione turned her head to the side, avoiding his gaze, as embarrassment washed over her. She may be good at acting sensual and wonton, but she wasn’t  _ that  _ good.   
  
“Stop,” he hissed, watching her turn her head back toward him; eyes questioning.    
  
“You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?” He leaned forward, slowly crawling toward her on the mattress. He watched her shudder as he drew near, and his cock twitched at the sight.    
  
“I’m just—” she started, but he cut her off before she could tell him any of the lies she told herself.    
  
“You are gorgeous, and any bloke who says differently is inexperienced and idiotic.” He practically growled, leveling his body directly above hers. She thought she heard him say ‘fucking weasle’, but she couldn’t be sure; her heartbeat was loud in her ears, drowning out much of the exterior sounds she should be hearing.    
  
Blaise crushed his body against hers, as his lips bruised her own, deliciously working her up to a frenzy. Hermione felt herself buck her hips, seeking friction. She must have hit an especially sensitive spot, as he hissed “Fuck, doll—”, exhaling a heady breath. She drew her hands down his sides, tracing his sinewy abs until she reached his trouser buckle. Quickly undoing the fabric, she pulled apart his zipper and let her hand caress his hardness through his boxers alone. 

She could tell he was well endowed just from the few strokes she had managed earlier, but this intimate touch gave her a better idea of exactly what she was dealing with— and it was considerable. Inhaling sharply as she felt the entirety of him, she heard him chuckle darkly.   
  
“Like what you feel, witch?” he asked. 

All she could manage was a ragged gasp. She let her hand dip below the elastic of his boxers to firmly grasp the thick length of his cock, but she was only able to get two firm strokes in before Blaise was pushing away from her. It only took a second to realise what he was after—his trousers and boxers were coming off. Hermione sat up, reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra, tossing it aside. She pushed herself up so she could peel the shirt off of Blaise’s arms, letting her hands trace the muscles in his biceps before continuing down his chest.    
  
Once divested of his shirt, Blaise knelt between her still open legs, teasing a hand across her clit before slipping two fingers into her wet heat. Hermione gasped and leaned forward into him, then moaned in response when his free hand teased her nipple. She greedily pulled his head down, deeply kissing the man as his fingers worked inside of her with a practiced skill. 

“Merlin, fuck—” she rasped, reaching down to grasp his cock in her hand, relishing the ragged sigh it elicited from him. Firmly holding his length, she slid her hand up and down, matching the pace he was setting with his own fingers. 

It only took a minute before Blaise was sliding his fingers out of her and pushing her shoulder to ease her back on the bed. Hermione reached her other hand up to cup his balls, gently squeezing and tugging while she continued to stroke him.    
  
“Fuck,” he growled, grabbing one wrist and pinning it above her head before doing the same with the other. Blaise dipped his head down to nip at the juncture between her neck and collarbone, and groaned before murmuring “Do you want me inside of you?” 

“I thought that was fairly obvious by now,” her voice was breathless and heady.    
  
“Just wanted to make sure,” he chuckled as he lined himself up, pausing only a moment, before he buried himself inside her sopping center. Hermione cried out as her back arched, hips meeting his, thrust for thrust.    
  
“Bloody fucking hell, witch. You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned, releasing her arms so that he could twirl her nipple between his fingers. 

Hermione’s body was alight with sensation, his cock setting a rhythm that was bringing her to the edge. Digging her nails into his back, pulling him closer, she moaned and kissed him hard, sweeping her tongue through his mouth. 

“Harder...fuck! Blaise, harder!” she cried when she felt the tension build to an almost unbearable height. Grunting in response, he laid his forehead against hers and sunk into her repeatedly, slamming against her body until she saw stars behind her eyes.

“Blaise… Blaise, I’m… oh gods!” Hermione felt her whole body tighten deliciously, then release in ecstacy. Her heels dug into his arse as she cried out his name, but his pounding rhythm didn’t slow, prolonging and intensifying her orgasm as he snapped his hips into her.

When she had finally come down from her high, she noticed his movements growing jerky and knew his own climax was nearing. Hermione, eager to return the favour, resumed her pace, meeting his thrusts with her own. Dragging her nails down his back, she heard him hiss in pleasure, as he moved his head to rest at her shoulder.   
  
“Fuck, doll...shit...I’m so close,” he rasped. Taking a shot in the dark, Hermione waited for his next thrust, and as he slammed into her body, she bit down on the skin at his shoulder. She felt him jerk as he growled in pleasure, his cock pulsing inside of her.     
  
“Ungh!” he groaned, emptying himself inside of her, taking everything she had to give. 

Their movements stilled as each came down from their climax. Hermione trailed kisses from his shoulder up his neck, until she found his mouth, and kissed him lazily, as the heat between them settled.    
  
Breaking away from the kiss, Blaise looked into her eyes, and smirked. “Bloody hell witch, why did I wait so long to do that?”    
  


Hermione couldn’t help the smile that settled on her lips at the praise, satisfied that he’d apparently enjoyed himself. He gently removed himself, rolling over to settle on the bed next to her, feeling utterly spent, before he spoke again.    
  
“I’m not going to lie doll, I’m entirely glad you spend your nights moping in the Leaky, because that was bloody fantastic.”    
  
“I was not moping,” she said flatly, not wanting to be reminded of why she had been there.    
  
“Oh, right, sorry. I meant  _ ‘I’m glad you spent your nights drinking away your demons’ _ .” he chuckled, turning his head to face her.    
  
It was a moment before she responded, and when she did her whisper was serious, and hard, changing the tone of the conversation entirely. 

  
“You know nothing about my demons, Zabini.”


End file.
